


I Bet Your Phone Plan Doesn't Cover THIS

by IndigoFudge



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Adult Eddie Kaspbrak, Adult Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Fix-It, Future, Future Character Death, M/M, Past, Phone Calls & Telephones, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Soft Richie Tozier, Stanley Uris Lives, Stanley Uris is So Done, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:09:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26069983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoFudge/pseuds/IndigoFudge
Summary: It's been a couple days since the final battle and Eddie's death. Richie has been calling his phone over and over, just to hear Eddie's voice on the answering machine.One day, Eddie picks up.orRichie's phone breaks the space-time continuum and is able to contact Eddie from a week before they all went back to Derry. Given a second chance of sorts, he has to find a way to save both Eddie and Stan - if that's even possible.Based on this Tweet from trashytozier:https://twitter.com/trashytozier/status/1175029815822282752
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 10
Kudos: 58





	I Bet Your Phone Plan Doesn't Cover THIS

**Author's Note:**

> Eddie's number is 332-555-7835 because 7-8-3-5 spells out R-T-E-K on the keypad, AKA his and Richie's first & last initials.

Richie dials Eddie's phone for the twentieth time in an hour. Curling up on his bed, he listens as it goes straight to voicemail. 

" _Hi, this is Edward Kaspbrak speaking. I can't come to the phone right now. Leave your name and number and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you."_

He hangs up before the beep, letting the stupid professional voicemail message hang in the air. Eddie sounds sad in the recording, maybe stuck in a spot he didn't want to be in. Definitely had a boring job, Richie decides. But... it's Eddie's voice. It may not be long until the phone number will be given to someone else, so he's enjoying it while he can. ('Enjoying' is a hollow word for it. Richie is most certainly not happy. Hearing the voice of his dead true love just helps to take away the pain for a little bit.)

The numbers beep as Richie dials Eddie's number again. He has it memorized by now. _332-555-7835._

This time, it rings. Richie pauses momentarily, confusion evident in his expression, but then ignores it. He takes his glasses off, wiping his face with the back of his hand. _They couldn't have reassigned the number already, right?_

And then there is a voice. “Hello? Who is this?"

It's a voice Richie thought he'd never hear in real time again. He freezes. Tears prick at his eyes. “Eds,” he breathes. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

Richie clutches the phone close to his head. “Eddie, it’s really you.” 

“Sir, I’m sorry, but if you don’t tell me who you are I’m going to hang up.”

“It’s- it’s me. Richie,” Richie says, heart pounding deafeningly in his ears.

There’s a short silence, and then Eddie’s breathing starts to get wheezy. A muffled “Fuck, where’s my inhaler?” comes through the phone.

Richie takes this opportunity to continue talking. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but he’s sure as hell not going to waste it. “Eds, I’m so fucking sorry. I tried to get you out, but they were dragging me, Ben had me by the arms and he was taking me away from you. I should have done better, I could have- I could have done better. Where are you? How are you talking to me? Does your phone somehow still work? Holy shit, are you still under there?” Each thump of his heartbeat goes _Eddie, Eddie, Eddie._ He's getting a second chance, both of them are. _If that's what this even is. It could just be a delusion._

There’s the sound of an inhaler, and then Eddie speaks. “Richie?” His voice is hesitant. “ _Tozier_?”

“Yeah, dude, who else? How many Richies do you know?”

“Not many." Eddie laughs without humor. "That was a lot of questions. W-what did you mean when you asked how I’m talking to you?”

Cold tendrils snake through Richie’s chest. “Well, it’d be kind of hard to get cell service from under Neibolt,” he says, with more volume than he intended.

“Neibolt? What... what are you talking about? And why are you calling me?” Eddie sounds genuinely confused. "I mean, not that I'm not glad to hear your voice. I've missed you, I really have. But you're not making a lot of sense. Maybe we can talk over-"

“I'm calling because... you know,” Richie says. The sentence starts out forcefully, but the words get quieter as he loses confidence. “I missed you. I know it’s only been a few days, but I’ve been calling nonstop. Just to hear your voice on the answering machine.” 

“It's been a hell of a lot more than a few days, Richie. What are you trying to say?”

Richie swallows. “No it hasn't. It's only been a few days since you..." _Died._ "Since It hurt you.”

“Oh, the fucking clown,” Eddie gasps. There's another inhaler noise. “Is It back?”

“No, we killed It.” Eddie _had_ died before they finished killing It. That's probably why he's confused. "Remember?"

“What, you mean- we killed It as kids?” Eddie asks. 

“Um. No. Hey, Eds? Can you do me a favor? Look around and tell me where you are.” _The sooner I know where he is, the sooner I can help him._ Richie scans the room for his shoes.

But then Eddie says “I’m in my apartment.”

 _What?_ “I didn’t know you had an apartment in Derry.” Richie tilts his head to the side.

“Why the fuck would I be in Derry, Richie? I hate that place. I wouldn’t live there in a million years. No, my apartment is in New York.”

“So you just, like... respawned in New York or something?” Richie means it as a joke, but honestly, it wouldn't be the weirdest thing that had happened within the past week.

Eddie sighs. “Richie, I can’t deal with this right now. Stop with this cryptic shit. Why would I ‘respawn’ anywhere? I woke up in my bed this morning, if that’s what you mean.”

Richie had seen it happen. He'd seen the jacket and the wound and the blood, all of it. Eddie had bled out under Neibolt with only Richie by his side. His heart had stopped beating. "But you died,” Richie whispers.

There is complete silence for seven seconds. “Excuse me?” 

“If you don’t remember, or something, I’m sorry. I have to tell you. You died, Eddie. It killed you.” It physically pains Richie to say those words, causing a sharp pain in his chest which he imagines is not unlike the pain that Eddie felt as It impaled him.

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why would It come all the way to New York to kill me?”

Richie’s heart is beating faster. “No, Eds, It came to Derry to kill you.”

“I haven’t been to Derry in 27 years, Richie.”

 _Uh-oh_ _._ “What day do you think it is?”

“August 2nd, why?”

“Shit, Eddie." Okay, so, Eddie clearly has some memory loss. Neibolt collapsed on top of him and he probably got hit on the head by a rock. Not great, but he's alive! _"_ You lost your memory. It’s August 10th. You died on the 8th. Look at the date on your phone.”

“I did. It says it’s the 2nd.”

 _Technology isn't always reliable, right? Or maybe Eddie just forgot to set his phone to the right date,_ Richie thinks. But he knows he's deluding himself. Eddie would never forget to set his phone to the right date. There's a very real possibility that this is something else. “Hey, do you think phones can break the space-time continuum?” Richie asks. This could be a good thing, or it could be a bad thing. What if it's some type of time loop, dooming Richie to experience his true love's death over and over for eternity?

The response is a simple “What the fuck?” 

Richie can picture the way Eddie's face most likely looks right now - frowning, brows furrowed, mouth open with indignation. New information coming in that doesn't fit with his worldview? How preposterous! How inconceivable! “Eds, it’s August 10th for me. On the 7th, Mike called us all and we went to Derry to kill It. You died.”

“Uh-uh. No. I don’t believe you. You somehow remembered me and decided to be an asshole by pulling a prank. News flash: it’s not fucking funny.” Eddie’s voice is rising in pitch, the way it always does when he gets filled with righteous anger.

“Eds, I’m not pranking you! You and Stan both died!" Richie cries. Then his face pales. "Oh shit. Stan is going to kill himself. In _five days!_ We have to stop him. Eddie! Come on, man. Please trust me on this.” He fights his tears and loses the battle.

This quiets Eddie down. “Stan... Stan is going to kill himself?”

“Yeah! On the 7th! Look, he lives in Atlanta, Georgia. Do you want to come with me to-" No. _Richie_ is in the future, he can't go to past-Stan. "Fuck, actually, that won’t work because I can't time travel. Eds, this is up to you. You have to save him.”

“Richie, I can’t- I can’t just leave my wife and fly to Georgia.” But he sounds uncertain.

Richie holds the phone tighter. “Why not? You’re going to leave her to go to Derry.” His eyes grow wide. “Wait, Eddie, you can’t go to Derry. When Mike calls, don’t go. If you go, you’ll die. I think everyone else will be able to kill It without you. I know how to do it, okay? I’ll tell you and you can relay the message. No one gets hurt.”

“You know how to kill It?”

“Yeah, you just have to, like, insult It. Shit like ‘you’re just a clown!’ or ‘you’re a mimic!’ Over and over again until It shrinks down into a shrivelled little raisin baby and then you squeeze Its heart. I say ‘you’ in the general sense, because you yourself are NOT going back.” While the Losers had been insulting Pennywise, Richie had been holding Eddie's hand as he lay dying against the side of the cave. Bad memories. Richie shudders.

Eddie lets out a long breath. “Where does Stan live again? And what do I even say when I get there?”

“I don’t know his exact address, but I’ll give you his wife’s number. Her name is Patty.” Richie is bouncing his knee, overflowing with nervous energy. “Tell him that he’s brave. He’s as brave as you, Eddie Spaghetti. Talk to him about Derry but don’t spook him. That’s important, the no spooking. Because if he gets too much information at once, bam, he’ll take a very bloody bath.”

“Jesus," Eddie murmurs. "And it all hinges on me. Fuck it, I'll do it. Richie?"

 _Just hearing Eddie say my name again is more than I could have ever hoped for._ “Mhm?”

“It has to be all seven of us. I think that’s the thing. Killing It seems like a very delicate matter, like... like if I don't go, it'll fuck everything up. We need as many of us as we can get. So, I'm going back to Derry too.”

“No, you’ll get killed!” Richie shakes his head, even though he knows Eddie can’t see him.

“Not if I know what’s coming. How do I die?”

 _Ah, fuck._ Richie digs his fingernails into his palm. “...It’s because of me. I get caught in the Deadlights and you save me, you almost kill It, but It stabs you through the back. I’m sorry, Eds, it’s all my fault. If I hadn’t been stupid-“

“Hey. No spiraling," Eddie directs. "I’m alive, here at least. I’ll save Stan, and we’ll both go back, and all of us together can kill It. I won’t let It catch me off guard.”

Richie listens to Eddie’s voice and imagines that Eddie is sitting next to him on the bed. He imagines that Eddie is alive. He imagines that everything is okay. They're laughing, watching stupid videos on their phones ~~and holding hands.~~ But of course, it’s not okay. “Okay, Eds. Call me when you get there, please? I want to talk to Stan too.”

"Yeah, okay, Richie," says Eddie, softly. "Bye."

_Click._


End file.
